Home

This is a familiar feeling, coming home from the hospital. So relieved and so grateful to have a backseat full of voices.

Last night, they started talking about possibly letting us go home, but we knew that could change if one doctor wanted to observe him longer, or he didn't meet this standard or that one. So we waited, and waited. R2 got really sick of the room, so they unhooked his monitors and IV's (they were still in, just capped) and he explored the room a little, and went down to the playroom and conquered the Potatoheads, and so on. All day I had to force him to eat Jello, because he had to eat something and his throat was so raw from the ventilator. Later, they brought in a tray of meatloaf and mac and cheese, and he inhaled it. Poor kid. I guess he just doesn't care for Jello.
Finally, the Neurology team showed up. The head of Neurology is Dr. Slopis, and he was there when R2 was in the NICU there. I remember him sitting with us for a long time, showing us the CT scans (in 1999) and explaining where the blood was, and what had happened in R2's brain, and what it would probably mean, long term. So here he is, 8 years later. And he remembered us, and remembered those scans. He walked in saying, "This can't be a 24 weeker!" He was just so excited and upbeat. The MRI, CT, and EEGs had all come back good, no further brain damage or issues with the shunt. (we're already talking miracles)

Now, being well versed in this routine, I am feeling a little nervous. Because you answer one question wrong, and not only are you spending another night in the hospital, but the little guy is probably getting stuck and prodded and scanned and it's miserable. So Dr. Slopis asks us if he can walk, since the seizure. And I am nervous, because he has been walking, but he's irritable and wobbly (R2), so we go for a little walk with the team of neurologists watching. And I'm down the hall watching them watch us walk, and I'm in that realm. But get this, R1 is in the room with the docs, and Dr. Slopis is shaking his head and saying, "Amazing."

He is marveling at how the child he knows should be non-functional, if even alive, is such a miracle. They are watching him hobble down the hall with wonder.
About an hour later, we were driving home.